Chapter 6 No.6

The next morning, Seraphina woke up before dawn. Old habits.

She walked down the hallway, the plush carpet silencing her footsteps. She needed coffee before she could face the day.

The door to the home gym opened.

Seraphina stopped.

Julian walked out.

He was shirtless. He had a towel draped around his neck. Sweat glistened on his chest, highlighting muscles that were harder, more defined than she remembered. He looked like a weapon forged in fire.

He stopped when he saw her.

Time suspended.

For three years, she had only seen him in nightmares. In person, the impact was physical. A punch to the gut.

He didn't look surprised. He looked annoyed.

"Grandmother gets what she wants," he said. His voice was deeper, rougher.

Seraphina clutched her cheap cardigan tighter around her chest. "I'm only here for her."

"Good," Julian said. He walked past her, his scent-sandalwood and sweat-washing over her. "Then we can finalize the paperwork."

"Finalize what?"

"Follow me."

He led her to the study. The same room where he had exiled her. The scene of the crime.

He walked behind the desk and pulled a file from a drawer. He slapped it onto the wood.

"The Separation Amendment," he said. "Grandmother thinks we are just 'working through things.' If she knows I filed for divorce three years ago, the stress will kill her. So, we pretend."

He uncapped a fountain pen and held it out.

"This is a Non-Disclosure Agreement regarding your stay here. And an agreement to play the role of the estranged wife attempting reconciliation. In exchange, I won't have security throw you out onto the street before she dies."

"You're asking me to lie to a dying woman?" Seraphina asked.

"I'm asking you to give her peace," Julian corrected. "Sign it."

Seraphina took the pen. "Did you run a background check on me, Julian? Before letting me back in?"

Julian laughed, a cold, harsh sound. "Why would I? I don't want to know which gutter you crawled out of. I don't want to know anything about your life since you left. Ignorance is the only way I can tolerate your presence."

He stared at her with such intense loathing that she almost flinched. He hadn't checked. He didn't know about Philadelphia. He didn't know about June.

She signed the paper.

Scratch. Scratch.

She pushed it back to him. "Done."

Julian stared at the signature. He looked at her hand. He ran his thumb over the calluses on her palm as he took the pen back. Rough. Hard. Worker's hands.

"You've changed," he muttered, staring at her skin.

She pulled her hand away as if he had burned her.

"You haven't," she said.

"One more thing," Julian said, opening a drawer and pulling out a black card. "Buy some clothes. You look like a vagrant. Don't embarrass us in front of the guests."

Seraphina stared at the card. "Guests?"

"Dinner tonight. A welcome home charade for Grandmother. Be there."

He turned his back on her.

Seraphina walked out. Her heart was pounding. He didn't know. He chose not to know.

And that arrogance was the only thing keeping her daughter safe.